A Boy and His Frog
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: Not a songfic. Sort of AU: Joanne's eulogy at Angel's funeral. Chapters may follow if I ever get the chance.


**A/N:** Yes, another Angel-angst fic. Oh well. This is a little AU, considering the real eulogies and way the funral goes. But I heard this song and imagined it playing at Ange's funeral...and that was that. The song is "A Boy and His Frog," by Tom Smith. It was written in memorial of Jim Hensen, who is a sorely missed man in this world. It's really a wonderful song, I would suggest you listen to it.

* * *

Joanne looked out over the pews that filled the little church, each of them dotted with at least a couple people. Angel had made friends that neither Joanne or any of the others had ever known about: homeless men who she'd chatted with and given a few bucks for coffee; older women who sat on stoops and were touched so deeply by a young man's willingness to ask about how they were feeling that day; fellow drag queens; even vendors from various stands throughout the Village. Angel had been on Earth for such a short time, and yet she had given so much to so many people. There was even a middle-aged woman with two young children who sat in the back, her face set with sadness and her children pressed against her as she gazed up at the coffin. 

Mark had spoken last. He had not cried, but Mark was not a crier. He'd retold a story about Angel with a bunch of tourists: it was such an appropriate example of Angel's character that Joanne had wanted to hold her hands over her ears, unsure that she could handle it. And when Mark had finished and stood there beside the casket for a moment, his face so white and hidden, Joanne had nearly burst into tears. But she knew she had to go next, and if she started to cry then she wouldn't be able to get a word out. Still…she just had to explain it, and then she could cry. Angel wouldn't mind.

Now Joanne took a deep breath as she prepared to speak. Her eyes flickered quickly through the people in the pews, searching for the ones she knew best. Roger sat beside Mark, his head bowed and his arms tightly crossed in front of him. Mark stared to one side, his eyes unrevealing. Across the church sat Mimi and Benny, Benny's arm draped around Mimi's shoulders. He looked uncomfortable, as though he wanted to mourn but felt it would be improper. Mimi's face was streaked with tears, and she seemed to be stifling sobs. Maureen was two pews behind them, dressed all in black and also tearstained. Collins in turn was behind her, and he was the hardest to look at. There were two solitary tears tracks on his face, but his face as a whole was so grief-stricken, so full of pain, so…_broken_ that it was physically excruciating to look at.

Joanne suddenly realized she was standing there with her mouth hanging open. Shaking herself, she spoke, her voice sounding much too loud in the echoing church.

"Um…Angel and I were talking one night…while everyone else was doing something else. We were discussing things that we missed from being kids, and how nowadays…well, now you grow up way before you can be an adult. But Angel said that—that she missed watching TV with her sisters, especially Sesame Street. She told me that once when she was watching Kermit the Frog, he sang a song about how it wasn't easy being green. And years later, after she'd been gay-bashed for going out in drag, Angel went inside and heard her sisters listening to Kermit sing the same song. She said that it was right then that she became convinced Kermit the Frog was a closet homosexual." Joanne laughed before she could help it. It was a laugh without humor, without any true feeling. But something inside her was going to snap before long, and that harsh, pained laughter eased the tension in her throat and behind her eyes for the moment.

"Anyway…I was listening to an old Tom Smith CD a few weeks ago and I found a song called 'A Boy and His Frog.' It—it was sung in Kermit's voice, and it was about the death of Jim Hensen, who created Kermit and the Muppets. Angel was already…feeling down by that time—" She paused to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. "—but I made a mental note to have her listen to the song. And then…stuff started happening, I was…I forgot. And then it was too late." Joanne dared to search out those same faces in the pews. Roger and Mark seemed frozen in place, while Mimi's eyes were shining and Benny was looking anywhere but at Joanne and the casket. Maureen's face seemed stiff with pain, and Collins had not changed. The broken look was still on his face. Joanne hurried on, her words tumbling out of her mouth like coins from an old pickle tub…

"So one night I was alone and I was looking for something to…to distract me. And I started listening to that tape again. When I heard that song, I had to think of Angel…and then it hit me. Because to me—to me that song is about Angel in some ways, some parts of it, but the whole song is just…I think Angel would have loved it. And that's why I lugged this idiotic thing up here," she said hoarsely, indicating the unwieldy tape player sitting on a stool beside her. "I wanted everyone to hear it…and I wanted Angel to hear it."

With trembling fingers, she pressed the play button. The tape, which was already inside, crackled into life. Guitar chords, soft and sweet, filled the church. Joanne closed her eyes and stuck her hands deep in her pockets as the sad, child-like voice began to join the guitar. Tears were already building behind her eyes.

_"Life is unfair, so they tell me,  
Because they think I wouldn't know.  
They only can see a cheap gimmick  
On their children's favorite show. _

_They say, "Oh, that's just foam and a wire,  
Attached to a green velvet sleeve,  
Anyone can do that" -- well, that's true, I suppose,  
But who else could make them believe?_"

Joanne's hands were balled into fists. The melody was bad enough, along with the obvious mourning in the voice…but now came the lyrics that applied to Angel, the ones that drove the nails into her heart. She dared not look at her friends when these words were sung; she wouldn't be able to hold it together if they couldn't.

_"What can I say without you there to guide me?  
How else am I supposed to give?  
How can I sing without you there beside me?  
How else am I supposed to live? _

_You could never just do the expected,  
I was just an idea in a bog,  
But you sewed up your dream and we made quite a team,  
Jim and Kermit, a boy and his frog._"

There was a sob in the break after the last words. Joanne opened her eyes and saw that Mimi has buried her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Benny awkwardly patted her on the back, but it had no affect.

Joanne looked back at Collins and was surprised to see that Maureen had moved back to sit beside him. One hand was clutching his shoulder tightly and the other was in his lap. Joanne could only assume they were holding hands. Her throat was blazing with the urge to sob just as Mimi had, but she forced it back. _Make it through the song and you can go back down without crying_, she told herself fiercely. _Just to the end of the song_.

_"It was me, Rolph, and you, but I think that he knew  
there was something that you and I had.  
The magic we made just kept growing,  
and none of it ever was bad. _

_Then came Ernie and Scooter and Gonzo,  
Doctor Teeth, Cookie Monster, and more.  
But now all of those voices are silent,  
And I want to go on... but what for?" _

Joanne knew the next set of lyrics were the worst. And suddenly she knew something else; she wasn't going to cry. Not here, not now. Maybe Angel was helping or maybe her heart just froze right then and there, but Joanne's throat and eyes were relaxed and dry. She would not cry. She would hurt so badly that it felt as though her head was splitting open. But she could not cry.

The whole church seemed to be full of cold air as Kermit sang. There were tears on almost every face now; the song was so innocent and so full of grief that you couldn't help but weep. And still Joanne stayed vigilant. Her eyes were bright, but they were not wet.

_"No one can make me what you did,  
No one could walk in your shoes,  
Nothing can make me forget you,  
But that's not a path that I'd choose. _

_I can't just let it be over,  
And you wouldn't want it that way,  
So I'll stand up and I'll face it,  
And, though not quite in your voice, I'll say: _

_I will go on without you there to guide me,  
There's so much more I can give.  
Whenever I sing, you will be there beside me,  
As long as I keep you, you'll live." _

Mimi was sobbing again, her cries strangled and muffled by her hands. Maureen had let go of Collins's shoulder to cover her eyes with one hand, and her own shoulders shook. Roger's face was openly shiny with tears, and Mark seemed to be biting his lip so hard that blood was sure to appear soon. And Collins had finally changed. He still looked broken…but there was a new pain in his face. There was the pain of wanting, not only missing; the pain of needing someone so much that your wanting became an emotion in and of itself. Joanne felt her stomach lurch. She could never forget that look on his face, no matter what. Grief such as that leaves its mark on everyone.

_"We just wanted to make people happy,  
I was always much more than your toy.  
I will never regret and I'll never forget  
What we had,  
I'll miss you, Dad,  
This frog and his boy." _

The tape clicked to a stop as the last guitar chords faded. Joanne waited a moment, then slowly picked it up by its handle and slowly walked into the pews, staring straight ahead. All around her was silence, broken only by the stifled cries of those who had been able to suppress their pain. Finding the only empty pew, she sat, placing the tape player gently on the ground beside her feet. The last few words of the songs seemed to echo through the emptiness of the church.

And only then did the tears come.


End file.
